


Retour à Vous

by LeslutDeLionwhore



Category: Interview With the Vampire (1994), The Body Thief - Anne Rice, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Lestat, Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Interview With The Vampire - Freeform, Light Angst, Louisiana, Loustat, M/M, Make up sex, Moving In Together, New Orleans, Oral Sex, Reunion Sex, Sharing a Bed, Smut, Subtle blood kink if you squint, Takes place post-body thief, Top Louis, Vampire Chronicles, Vampires, can still be relatively understood and enjoyed if you've watched IWTV and havent read the books, the body thief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:35:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28682643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeslutDeLionwhore/pseuds/LeslutDeLionwhore
Summary: Although he’d overseen its restoration over the past few months, it still shocks him each time he sees the New Orleans apartment again. It truly looks like their old home — the environment of their happiest days together recreated with all of the modern comfort of the present era.What truly makes him stop in his tracks each time, however, is the feeling that for the first time since Claudia twisted the knife in his heart, this place they so long called home is free of ghosts.Besides, no lover of his will live in some rundown Garden District house overflowing with vines and insects. Lestat loves the Queen’s Wreath and bougainvillea as much as the next man, but he won’t have Louis continuing to dwell in that dark little place. No, it’s time that they had a home again. A home together.
Relationships: Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Retour à Vous

**Author's Note:**

> So this takes place after "The Body Thief" and before "Memnoch the Devil" and is mostly Lestat and Louis making up after the events of TBT. 
> 
> If you haven't read the books, only a little bit of their conversation won't make sense and you can still enjoy the making up / reunion aspect. It all takes place in the Rue Royale apartment which should be familiar from the IWTV movie as well. 
> 
> All attempted French is translated in the end notes! I do not speak a word of it in real life, so please forgive me if it's off.

Title: “Retour à Vous”

“No peeking now. I’ll know if you do — quite literally.”

“Lestat whatever you’re on about now-”

“Oh ye of little faith. Did it ever occur to you that I might have a pleasant surprise in store for once?” Lestat rests one hand between Louis’s shoulders, keeping him in place as he fiddles with the lock of the new front door. He makes a mental note to have a handyman fix how it’s been sticking as he finally turns the key and opens the door of the newly refurbished Rue Royale apartment.

Although he’d overseen its restoration over the past few months, it still shocks him each time he sees it again. It truly looks like their old home — the environment of their happiest days together recreated with all of the modern comfort of the present era. He adores the sight of the flat screen television built into the wall, right above a mantle of white marble, surrounded by the same old fashioned (yet still fashionable) wallpaper from their 19th century home. 

What truly makes him stop in his tracks each time, however, is the feeling that for the first time since Claudia twisted the knife in his heart, this place they so long called home is free of ghosts at last.

Besides, no lover of his will live in some rundown Garden District house overflowing with vines and insects. Lestat loves the Queen’s Wreath and bougainvillea as much as the next man, but he won’t have Louis continuing to dwell in that dark little place. No, it’s time that they had a home again. A home together where they can host David and on the (rare) occasion, Armand and Daniel — perhaps Marius if he can come to forgive Lestat’s most recent misadventures. He may need another year or two… 

“Now take my hand,” Lestat says with a smile he knows Louis can’t see, but can still sense, as he intertwines their fingers and leads him slowly into the apartment. 

Louis, the most human of them all, bless his undead heart, seems to lack much of the sensory powers the other vampires find themselves empowered by. Louis who can read the truth in Lestat’s heart with the familiarity of his favorite poetry, but can not for the life of him walk with a blindfold on.

“Don’t be frightened, it’s just Mojo.” Lestat says with a roll of his eyes when the sound of the nearby dog causes Louis to start. “You’ll have to promise not to knock him unconscious this time. He has far more reason to be afraid of you than you of him.”

Mojo tilts his head from where he lies on an overly luxurious dog bed by the fireplace, large brown eyes wandering over their new guest as Lestat shuts the front door behind them and locks it once more with a flick of his mind. 

“All right, the moment of truth,” Lestat grins, stepping behind Louis so as not to block his view when he unties the bolt of satin cloth he’d used to blind him and swiftly drops the fabric to the floor. “Seem familiar?”

For a moment Louis is quiet, his soft eyes brightening as he looks around the common room, seeming to fixate on one object at a time. Yes, it is the very same vase in the corner (well an expensive replica) that had stood there a century ago. Yes, it is the same paintings on the walls, the same wallpaper, familiar French furniture, and a soft Persian rug just like the one they’d chosen together long ago because Claudia had so loved its soft texture and bright colors. 

“Mon Dieu,” Louis breathes, his hand reaching back to loosely grasp Lestat’s. “Mon chéri, all this? It’s as if we never left it, surely this can’t be what you… Tell me you haven’t gone to all this trouble just to lure me out of my shadowed lair. Is this what you want?”

“Of course it is. We’ve laid to rest all that once happened here. Let it be our home again, I know how much you miss being able to watch the people on the street go by and read in the gardens out back. I’ve had the garden redone as well, but with all the same plants. There’s a doggy door for Mojo as well, be sure to let it alone.”

“How did you…?”

“There’s nothing a mortal can’t find for the right price.” Lestat shrugs, stepping around him, so they’re face to face as he steps in close, daring Louis to show a more physical sign of his appreciation. As much as Lestat loves and craves physical intimacy, he much prefers when Louis initiates their affection. The love of his once fledgling is a love to be earned, each kiss a pleasant reward, a reminder of their forgiveness of one another. 

Predictably, Louis looks at him with those sad longing eyes despite his clear excitement, searching for some kind of discontent Lestat knows he will not find but will inevitably seek out anyways. “You shouldn’t go to all of this trouble for me, inviting me to live here again after I… I failed you, Lestat. You came crawling to me and I turned my back on you.”

“Mon cœur, we both know by now that you couldn’t have helped me. Even if you had worked the Dark Trick on me as I pleaded, I still wouldn’t have been able to reprimand that wretched body thief without David’s elaborate scheming.” He lifts his hand to push a lock of dark hair out of Louis’s eyes, tucking it gently back behind his ear. “I was desperate then, but we both know what it would have done to your soul to create another vampire. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t have you do it.”

“And you’re sure of this?”

“Sure enough to have spent a small fortune on the renovation. Come, I want to show you a few things.”

“Isn’t it all exactly the same?”

“I’ve made a few modern additions.” Lestat’s heart gives the smallest twinge that Louis has yet to shower him in the affection he is very much expecting out of this evening, but he sets his anticipation aside in favor of threading his fingers through Louis’s once more and tugging him along on a tour of the apartment. 

He walks Louis through each room, pointing out all of the modern fixtures he’d managed to find in exquisite French designs that evoked enough aesthetic antiquity to blend right into the late 19th century decor. 

The crown jewel of the whole project he considers to be the most important to reveal, opening the door to what was once Claudia’s room to reveal a writer’s dream office. Outfitted with some of Louis’s favorite works of art and dark wood bookshelves stuffed to the brim with everything from Shakespeare to Goethe. There is a luxurious velvet sofa, two desks, and two computers, so that Louis could easily use the space even if Lestat is on another book writing kick. He knows Louis doesn’t ever intend to write another novel or give another interview, but Lestat knows that having this cozy place to read and to write the poetry he’s always hiding away will be a great comfort to him. 

“Lestat, it’s wonderful,” Louis says with a soft reverence, letting go of Lestat’s hand to examine the bookshelves, ghosting his fingertips over many of the familiar spines, smiling subtly when he comes across a title they both share an affection for. “I adore it.”

“And I adore watching you adore it. Come, I have one more surprise in store.”

“There can’t possibly be more, Lestat. This is a dream.”

“And yet there is more to be shared.” Lestat beckons him to follow as he exits the doorway and leads Louis to the master bedroom. As important as the writing studio is to him, this is the reveal he’s most excited for. 

Since returning more permanently to New Orleans, Lestat has found his sleep during the daytime to be frequented by nightmares. Not haunted by Claudia anymore thankfully, but awful dreams of the body thief, of unknown devils, of Gretchen and her bloodied hands, of David Talbot and his deceased body of origin. He’d spent many days of sleep in Louis’s dank basement in past months out of an embarrassingly human desire to be near to him if the dreams were too much to bear. 

With this in mind, Lestat has outfitted the master bedroom to accommodate this newfound need, however childish it makes him feel to admit it’s a need at all. Of all the mortal comforts he no longer misses, sharing a bed is not one of them. He doesn’t want to sleep in a box, he wants to sleep beside his lover. He wants to rise in the evenings to find Louis next to him, wants to be able to wake him if the nightmares frighten him awake as they’ve done a few times. For this all to be possible, all that is required is darkness. 

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t stand sleeping in boxes anymore,” Lestat says, looking over the magnificent four post bed he’d had shipped all the way from the far East as he walks to the window. 

Below the sill is a black painted piece of thick wood carved perfectly to match the dimensions of the window. He lifts it and pushes it into place, fitting it snugly into the window frame. It blocks out any semblance of moon light or street lamps, but of course he had taken much more precautions than just this.

“We place these in the bedroom windows when we’re ready to sleep for the day, then draw the curtains. They’re blackout curtains of thick velvet, a ray of sun couldn’t penetrate them if it was sent by Apollo himself.” He draws the curtains over the windows to demonstrate and then turns to the bed, gesturing at the canopy. “The canopy is thick and can be closed around the bed to shroud us with one more layer of protection and the bedroom door is outfitted with three different locks to keep anyone away. Of course Mojo will also be awake during the day time and can guard this cozy new lair of ours.”

Louis doesn’t appear to have absorbed half of what Lestat has said, but he’s smiling — a soft sweet smile Lestat rarely gets to see on his gloomy companion’s face. “You wanted to share a bed with me.” 

“That is not the only reason for the bed!” Lestat splutters. “Coffins are simply too cumbersome and too much of a bother to hide and disguise in the presence of guests. A bed is much more practical.”

“One bed to be specific.”

“Yes one bed, what am I? Do I look like a Quaker to you? If we’re going to use beds instead of coffins I won’t have you fucking me and then skittering off to sleep elsewhere.” 

“So you want to sleep together.” Louis is grinning now, teasing him without saying another word and yet Lestat is beyond flustered. 

Louis, Louis, Louis always knowing right where the chinks of his armor lie and exactly how to pierce the soft flesh beneath. He could have thanked him a million times over, praised his thoughtfulness and generosity in providing them with such comfort, but he knows all too well the truth. Lestat does want to sleep by his side. He wants to make love before sunrise and drift seamlessly into the deep unconsciousness that comes with the morning’s first light, wrapped in a pair of strong yet tender arms. If a nightmare jolts him from his slumber, he doesn’t want to be trapped in a box. 

“I wouldn't exactly… mind your presence in a bed with me, you could say. For sleeping. For lovemaking, I more than prefer the bed, less we break any of this new expensive furniture.”

“Yes, you can be quite destructive when you’re riled up,” Louis says, a grin still plastered on his face as he walks up and wraps his arms around Lestat’s waist. He plants a soft kiss on his temple, such an innocent and affectionate gesture that Lestat fears his icy heart may be melted yet. “I love it, Lestat. I’m happy to share a bed with you.”

“If you aren’t, I could still get you a coffin.” Lestat feels himself flush. “If that’s… what you wanted. I know I haven’t been exactly trustworthy as of late.”

“You know I care only that you’re in my life. We’re immortal, I could care less what clumsy sexual encounters you had in your mortal body.” Louis nuzzles his nose against the spot he’d just kissed then tilts his head, pressing another tender kiss to where Lestat’s neck meets his shoulder. “I know that you always come home to me. As long as that’s the case, it’s no betrayal to me when you go off on your many misadventures. I do prefer you stop putting yourself in wildly intense danger however.” Another kiss, behind his ear this time.

“I suppose,” Lestat shivers, “that a sabbatical from my adventures can be arranged.”

“Monsieur Lioncourt, are you offering me a honeymoon?”

That unique Louisiana drawl drips from his accent, so endearing that Lestat can’t help but grin right back at him. “If you’re positive you hold no ill will towards me for my mortal tumbles in the bedsheets, I suppose a romantic vacation could be arranged.”

“Ill will,” Louis chuckles at the words. “Need I remind you of my brief travels with Armand? I know your favorite subject is how we-“

“If you even breathe a word about that particular love affair, I will walk myself right into the fireplace.”

“My point is, we’ve never been a pair of monogamous housewives. We are creatures of the flesh and we partake of it in many forms.” Louis takes to kissing a line up the column of Lestat’s neck, keeping his lips closed, so the touch is warm, teasing what Lestat really wants which is to feel the heavenly brush of those fangs and a velvet tongue against his skin. “I always know that I am yours.” He drags his lips over the shell of his ear. “And you are mine.”

“Dear Satan, please take me already.”

“Glady, mon chéri,” Louis murmurs with that sweet smile still painted on his lips, one hand sliding to the small of Lestat’s back to arch him into the touch. 

Lestat can feel the warmth radiating off of Louis’s skin and heat coils deep inside him at the realization that Louis had come over with the same intentions in mind. He’d fed already, his preternatural body full of fresh blood that would allow him to perform this act. A mixture of ancient blood and insatiable libido makes it that Lestat never has to worry about this particular ritual, but a helpless mortal had fallen victim to Louis on more than one occasion in the name of fueling his body for the task of intercourse. 

“I came plenty prepared,” Louis assures, backing him up a step towards the bed.

“I thought you couldn’t read minds.”

“I don’t need any kind of telepathy to read you, mon cœur.”

Lestat gives up his strength then, allowing himself to be lifted and laid down on the bed. With one window left uncovered and the canopy open, Louis’s laid him right in a perfect patch of moonlight. The glare of a street lamp shines lowly behind Louis’s dark hair, the ring of light swelling like a halo. 

It almost makes him laugh. 

Louis, his dark angel indeed. This vampire, this killer, this creature of the night looking so devastatingly ethereal as he leans over him. He gives Lestat a kiss so sweet he’s momentarily convinced that Louis truly is heaven sent.

Lestat makes a soft sound against Louis’s lips, a sound he would usually inhibit, but he allows himself the vulnerability this time. He wants Louis to know he’s grateful that he’s here with him, that they’ve come out of yet another existentially dangerous situation unscathed and with each other. 

Blood warmed hands untuck his shirt, pushing under the fabric to slide up his sides, then around to arch his back. 

“Louis,” Lestat says in a reverent sigh. 

“After all the stress you put me through with your body switching stunt, I hope you know I’ll be taking my time with you.” 

“Take it.” Lestat nearly whines, his hips canting upwards underneath Louis. “Take all of your time with me.” 

Louis’s eyes darken in a way they only do when Lestat submits to him. Louis isn’t exactly dominant in the bedroom, but Lestat is usually a little bratty in bed, always teasing and seducing, playing hard to get. He doesn’t often voice his desires or give himself up to Louis like this, but right now, it’s all Lestat wants. 

He could have lost this. 

He could have been stuck in that mortal body forever and even if Louis had given into him and returned, he never could have worked the Dark Trick. He would have died in a mortal lifetime, perhaps never knowing again what it feels like to make love with this person, this one soulmate he always returns to no matter how far he strays. 

Louis undoes the buttons of Lestat’s shirt one by one, kissing each additional inch of exposed neck and torso until the garment lies open then placing one more kiss on his navel just above the belt buckle. “I suppose I ought to show my thanks for all of this renovation.”

“I don’t deserve any thanks,” Lestat sighs, but parts his legs anyways in the hopes Louis may do what he thinks he’s going to. 

“Then I suppose I ought to show my love,” Louis says, so tender as he undoes the belt buckle and slides it out from under Lestat’s weight, tossing it aside. “Now be gracious or you might find my fangs somewhere you won’t like them.”

“Feisty.”

“Hush now,” Louis chides before guiding Lestat to lift his hips just enough for Louis to tug the pants down and off in a flourish of preternatural grace and speed. 

Lestat rises on his elbows to take in the scene before him, now dressed only in an unbuttoned white shirt that lies open, exposing all but most of his arms to the open air. “Let me see you,” he implores, reaching out to softly caress Louis’s cheek with one knuckle and feeling a new warmth bloom in his chest when his lover leans into the soft touch. 

Louis nods his head and rids himself of the dark sweater that had matched his hair so perfectly, sliding his own belt off from around his waist next before he returns to lie over Lestat.

Lestat gives into him easily, an uncharacteristic move, but a welcome one as their mouths open against each other. He can taste the blood on Louis’s tongue from his earlier feast, the lingering notes of its rich taste passing into his mouth as they kiss and kiss. He’s never one for this part usually, finding it almost painfully intimate, but now he wraps his arms around Louis’s shoulders in encouragement, his legs lying open around the other vampire’s hips as if saying yes, I’m yours, I’m yours. 

Lestat scrapes his nails lightly down Louis’s back, always checking his strength to be sure his touch is gentle, or at least not painful. When they enter a bed together, he lets himself float almost, summoning a fraction of that lightness he takes on when he chooses to fly around the world for a night in order to let some of that impossible strength leave his body. The thought of hurting Louis by mistake in the throes of passion horrifies him, but he’s perfected this trick enough by now that it’s not an immediate concern. 

He can feel himself hardening, his hips pressing up to rub himself slick against Louis’s abdomen while the kisses continue, increasing in fervor with every touch of their lips. He isn’t sure of the biology (nor is he sure he wants to know), but there is that same slickness that comes with arousal as there had been when they were mortals. Ejaculate becomes a thing of the past when one is turned into a vampire, but the precursor remains. He supposes it must be the same as the blood sweat and tears they’re also able to conjure, but the substance has never appeared red in color (thankfully). 

Wordlessly Louis’s hand slides between them, stroking him to full hardness and swallowing the noises Lestat makes in response. 

It’s all he can do to push his hand into Louis’s hair and thank God for sparing his immortal life so he could feel this again as Louis, lips parted and warm, kisses his way down his body. 

“You’re still wearing too many clothes.” Lestat sighs, but he can deal with Louis’s pants in a minute, already hooking one leg over his lover’s shoulder to signal he doesn’t intend to interrupt this particular part of their foreplay. 

“I don’t think you want me to stop to deal with that right now.”

“Absolutely not, please carry on.” Lestat runs his fingers affectionately through Louis’s hair, a tender gesture as a silent thank you before he feels breath against him between his legs. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut as the tip is enveloped in the soft wetness of Louis’s mouth, fangs carefully held out of the way as plush lips suckle on his most sensitive place. 

He checks his strength again, making sure not to cause any pain when he grips Louis’s hair. It’s infinitely better than the sex he’d had as a mortal. Not just because that had been with women, who physically he’s equally fond of, but his body is back to its usual temperament. There’s not that obnoxious human urge to rush to the finish line or chase climax the moment he’s erect. In this body, he can better let himself go, allow Louis to work him up how he pleases, drag out their pleasure for as long as they desire. 

The soft suckling sound is something that used to make him cringe a little as a mortal, receiving this act from the village girls as a young man, but with Louis between his thighs, it’s music to his ears. 

Lestat almost feels a little vain as Louis slowly takes him further into his mouth, moaning quietly around him when he bumps the back of his throat and then breaches it ever so slightly. He knows as damnable and bratty as he can often be, Louis can rarely resist his beauty. It was what led Louis to trust him in the first place, the spell that he was able to put over him. But better yet, the pleasure Louis gives him now isn’t overly full of lust, but deliberate and even loving. After decades together (despite some brief intermissions), they know how to please each other as well as they do themselves. 

Hands slide up Lestat’s thighs and grab his hips, inhuman strength holding them down against the lush bedspread beneath him, less he lose his grip and thrust upwards by mistake. 

“Louis, my love, had you any interest in whoring back in the day, you just may have found this was your calling.” 

Louis lifts off for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if to say - are you finished? To which, Lestat promptly shuts his mouth and goes back to stroking his hair once again. 

It’s an adorable thing he’d noticed long ago and has never voiced, less Louis become embarrassed and deny it, but he seems to adore this kind of affection. Whenever Lestat plays with his hair, lightly scratches at his scalp during moments of leisure, Louis seems to purr like a kitten, always leaning right into the touch and relaxing. 

On anxious nights during happier times, Lestat would have Louis lie his head in his lap where he could play with the long locks of inky black hair and read to him softly from Dickens or Poe. It’s such an innocent pleasure, so absolutely Louis to be able to go ages without sex at times and not feel an ounce of frustration, then melt the moment someone close to him touches his hair. 

“My love,” Lestat murmurs, his back arching ever so slightly as Louis gently hums around him. “You feel so wonderful, but please, I want you inside me. Come kiss me again, you’re too far away down there.”

“I’ve never known Lestat de Lioncourt to ever request I end this activity early.” Louis smiles, lips wet and shiny as he slowly crawls back over him, caging him in as he leans down to nuzzle their noses together. He looks so young like this. “Are you sure it’s the real you in there? Should I be concerned?”

“Oh if you had fucked Raglan James in my body, I never would have forgiven you.”

“You know he never could have fooled me.” Louis lets out a low laugh and presses a sweet kiss to Lestat’s lips again, letting him taste just a hint of himself on the tip of his tongue. “No one can imitate your precise brand of lovable yet incorrigible at the same time.”

“I’d certainly hope so. A great deal of effort went into building this brand of mine.”

“If only all those fans saw their beloved rock star with his legs spread for me like this.” 

Louis bends down to lap at his neck again at those words and Lestat feels his face burn red, heart thumping and cock nearly twitching with desire. It’s rare for this side of Louis to come out — the confident lover who knows exactly how much Lestat truly wants him. Dear God, the orgasm he gets from this might very well kill him. 

He feels so naked with the shirt still unbuttoned around him, but he leaves it be, moaning and sliding his hands down Louis’s back as he feels a bruise being sucked into his collarbone. It will heal and disappear within the hour, but he still adores the idea of being marked. 

The moment Louis lifts his head, Lestat drags him into a proper kiss, licking into his mouth to taste more of himself as he reaches between their bodies to tug impatiently at the waist of Louis’s pants. 

“Off,” he breaks the kiss to mumble before kissing Louis once more, fumbling blindly a little as he manages to undo the button with one hand. 

Louis hums into the kiss, a wordless affirmation, and reaches down to assist, dragging the zipper down and pulling away only momentarily to rid himself of the rest of his clothing. “Do you have…?”

“Who do you take me for?” Lestat scoffs, reaching under the opposite pillow to retrieve the tube of lubricant he’d purchased from the pharmacy prior to the grand apartment reveal. Mortals really do have a product for everything. He much prefers the little plastic bottle he places in Louis’s palm to the oil he and Nicolas used to… appropriate for this purpose. 

“It really was nice of humans to invent this.” Louis teases, allowing Lestat to pull him back into bed and return the many favors of foreplay Louis had just performed on him. 

“I really do prefer you unclothed like this. Perhaps we should make it a house rule.”

“What, no clothes?”

“Yes but just for you. I’m too fond of my wardrobe to let it go to waste.” Lestat says with a wink before tucking himself into Louis’s side and leaning into kiss up his neck, latching on to all of the parts he knows are most sensitive and sucking lightly, knowing Louis trusts him enough not to actually bite. 

He kisses each little bruise he leaves, one hand sliding down to stroke Louis to the same level of arousal that he’s at himself. He loves the feel of it, the weight of it in his hand, but most of all, he adores the soft sighs that fall from Louis’s lips, sounds that assure him he feels good. 

“Close your eyes for me,” Lestat instructs with a soft kiss to Louis’s cheek before he slides down the bed, lying between his lover’s open legs to take what he desires. 

Even as a mortal, this was an act he loved to give as well as receive. The power it gives you over someone, the way Louis sounds when Lestat uses his mouth in utterly depraved creative ways, they make his whole body thrum.

“My Louis,” Lestat whispers before taking his cock in his mouth, lapping greedily at the tip then wasting no time in sinking down. 

“Lestat!” Louis gasps, one hand flying down to grip at blonde hair. “Warn me before you-“ His sentence cuts off into a silent open-mouth moan as Lestat hollows his cheeks and begins to effortlessly bob up and down.

It’s the only taste besides blood Lestat truly craves. He loves it. The weight on his tongue, the slight salt of the pre-come, the easy way his vampiric throat allows Louis to be taken in. Best of all, he loves how Louis pulls his hair, how his hips roll, how he squirms in pleasure. Lestat can hear his heavy breathing, pulling off to lick up his cock a few times in long wet strokes, mindful not to bring Louis too close to the finish line while they’re still just warming up. 

“Mon amour, tu as un goût si doux,” Lestat purrs, lapping at the sensitive skin of the tip again with teasing little kitten licks. Louis’s eyes are open and he looks caught between absolute misery and complete ecstasy, so achingly hard now, but resisting the urge to succumb completely to this pleasure just yet. “I can’t tell you how much I missed this,” Lestat murmurs softly, then corrects himself. “How much I missed… well, you.” 

“Mon chéri, even if I turned you away, you have to know what agony it was,” Louis says, petting Lestat’s hair affectionately then dropping his hand to caress his cheek. “Come. Let me make love to you properly.”

Lestat opens his mouth to make another joke, perhaps tease Louis for his lack of endurance in the face of a blowjob, but looking into Louis’s dark kind eyes, he melts. He blushes again and removes the unbuttoned shirt, crawling to lie on top of Louis, each completely naked now as they embrace once more. 

He’s beginning to ache. He wants so badly to be filled, to feel Louis deep inside him, to be claimed by him, but he loves this part too much to rush it. He loves how Louis kisses him deeply and grabs his ass, using the leverage to roll their hips together. Their bodies are slick against one another, Lestat’s hands on Louis’s chest to greedily squeeze at the firm pectorals, brushing his thumbs over the pert nipples just to hear the way Louis’s breath hitches. 

“I want you inside me.” Lestat gasps against him. “Mon Dieu, I want you to fuck me so badly, but I can not stop kissing you.”

“I’ll hold you close, mon prince charmant,” Louis coos, almost uncharacteristically sweet as he kisses the side of Lestat’s nose and brings his hands to his waist. “Let me show you how I’ve missed you.”

Lestat allows himself to be flipped, a breath knocking out of him when he lands on his back once again, Louis kissing him all over as he uncaps the lubricant. Already, Lestat is spreading his legs underneath him. He’d missed this so terribly, he feels like he may burst into flames if that little itch inside of him isn’t scratched in the next minute. All of his mortal lovemaking had been with women, wonderful in its own way, but it wasn’t the same as being taken. He wants Louis, his sweet and gentle Louis, to give into pleasure as Lestat knows he can do.

God, he can still recall the first time he laid eyes on Louis. The darkness in his eyes, his carelessly exposed chest and wild hair. Lestat had secretly watched him make love once before meeting him, spied from a window as Louis recklessly fucked a common whore he’d picked up at the docks. When aroused or riled up enough, Lestat could get that primal instinct in him to come out in their own lovemaking. How he loves when that rarely seen animalistic side of Louis emerges just for the sake of fucking him as hard as he wants to be. 

“Louis,” Lestat’s eyes roll back just at the presence of the first finger breaching him, slick with self-warming lubricant (mortals really are quite innovative). He tightens instinctually, but takes a deep breath as he reminds his body how to relax. 

Louis wastes no time in pleasuring him this way. “Mon cœur, you’ve gotten so tense without me.”

“Quiet.” Lestat laughs, batting Louis’s shoulder playfully before a long sigh escapes his lips. The finger inside him curls expertly, caressing the point of his pleasure and stroking it relentlessly to ease his muscles into relaxation, his cock into further excitement. “I’m afraid while I’ve been sexually active, I don’t think I’ve been properly fucked in ages.”

“We’ll just have to take care of that won’t we, mon vilain garçon,” Louis murmurs, his drawl making the words drip like honey as he pushes a second finger inside. “Dis moi que tu as raté ma bite.”

Lestat flushes. In French, Louis has a gift for whispering filth into his ear in a way he rarely does in English. The words make him shiver. “Yes,” he whispers, biting his lip as he looks up at Louis. “I missed it. I missed your cock so bad, nothing feels the same as it.”

Louis blushes as well, but there’s a slight smirk on his lips as he bends down and kisses Lestat tenderly on the corner of his mouth. In French once again, he drops his voice to whisper right into Lestat’s ear the simple praise that always fills him with heated desire. “Good boy.”

Lestat is embarrassed at the moan the words elicit from him, but he can’t help it. His back arches obscenely from the mattress, Louis massaging his insides to spread heat all the way down to the tips of his toes. It feels almost like floating (he would know).

Good. God, yes. That’s what he wants to be. He wants to be good for Louis now. He wants to shower him in gifts and affection, be honest in his love, make Louis smile more than curse at him for some ill thought out scheme. 

“You like hearing that.” Louis smiles. “Is that what you want? To be good for me?”

“Yes.” Lestat gasps, eyes screwed shut as the fingers inside of him pulse relentlessly on that sweet sensitive spot. His face is burning with the embarrassment of admitting something like that — the old Lestat would quake — but it's the truth. “I want to be good. I’ll be good for you.”

“Well that would be a first.” Louis chuckles, pressing another line of tender kisses down Lestat’s neck. “Could you ask nicely for what comes next?”

“What?” Lestat pants. “What do you mean?”

“Oh you know what I mean mon amour.”

Lestat opens his eyes to see the dark desire in Louis’s gaze and shivers, his mouth watering at the request. He’s never been one to beg. In their early days, Louis couldn’t have goaded him into that if he tried. But now? He does want to beg for it. He should beg for it. He’s been an idiot, a selfish child, an asshole, everything in between in the past year alone. Hell, he was willing to crawl on his hands and knees to Louis for help with the body thief. He’s a little embarrassed, a little too vulnerable for his taste, but he’ll beg him for this too. He’ll let Louis know how much he really wants him. 

“Please?” Lestat breathes, batting his eyes up at Louis and rolling his hips against his hand. 

“Please what?” Louis grins, already having entirely too much fun with this, but Lestat refuses to become flustered. No, if he’s going to beg and plead, he’s going to make a goddamn show of it. 

“Please, give me your cock, Louis,” he whines, his voice just soft enough to convey the affection underneath the words. "S'il te plaît, baise-moi. Je te veux. S'il vous plaît.” 

Louis visibly shivers and slows the pace of his fingers, stroking slowly and deeply inside just to watch Lestat writhe. “Go on.” 

“Mon bel homme,” Lestat whispers, knowing how he must look right now, his blonde hair spread beneath him like a halo. He reaches out and touches Louis’s tucking it back behind his ear and caressing his cheek. “Fuck me. Please, show me what it’s like to make love again in this body. My beautiful handsome man, my Louis, please,” he begs and takes Louis’s free hand in his own, kissing the inside of his palm and over each individual finger. “Fuck me like it’s the very first time, mon amour.”

“Mon Dieu, you can put that filthy mouth to good use,” Louis says but the kiss he presses to Lestat’s lips is heated and full of passion, not just his undeniable arousal, but his love and devotion as well. Lestat feels like he’s floating again, his body weightless in Louis’s embrace.

He eggs him on when Louis reaches for the lube again, spreading a generous amount over himself and more between Lestat’s legs. “Please, Louis God, I’m going to lose my mind if you don’t fill me this instant. Baise-moi comme un animal.”

“I would never make love to you like an animal,” Louis smiles, a playful glint in his dark eyes as he settles over Lestat once again, one hand between their heated bodies to hold his cock up against its destination. “But I could fuck you like one.” 

Lestat lets out a growl of desire and throws his arms around Louis’s neck, kissing him deeply as he hooks both legs over his hips as well and feels the sweet pressure of the initial breach. 

He adores this part. Especially with Louis, who always takes his time (mostly because Lestat is always in a rush). The stretch as he relaxes his body, reminds it to welcome Louis’s presence as he pushes inside little by little. Lestat chews on his lip hard enough to draw blood when he pulls away from the kiss, groaning as Louis bottoms out and comes to a stop, allowing him to adjust to the new intrusion. 

“Your body is just as tight as you left it.” Louis laughs a little before leaning forward and licking the drop of blood from Lestat’s lip. “Are you with me, mon cœur?”

“Yes,” Lestat sighs, head tipping back in pleasure. “Yes, I’m ready, please… fuck me, Louis. Baise moi fort.” 

“It’s lovely to hear you ask nicely,” Louis murmurs, caging Lestat in easily with his body as he backs up for the first time and slowly pushes back in, letting Lestat’s hips adjust to the intrusion and teasing him once more. 

Lestat keens at the sensation, nails dragging down Louis’s back as he waits to be given more. If he could rut himself against Louis’s cock adequately to get what he wants, he would, but positioned like this, he’s at Louis’s mercy. “Please, Louis,” he pleads, arching his back to press his cock up against his lover’s stomach, desperate for anything. “I’ll be good. I’ll be so, so good. I’ll love you like I never have before, just fuck me. Fuck me like you need me, show me that you-“

“Of course I need you, mon chéri. Be patient, I don’t want to rush and hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“You overestimate yourself in bed, my love. You can still feel pain, I just won’t allow it.” 

A loving hand combs through Lestat’s hair and he takes a deep shuddering breath as Louis continues to fuck him slowly. He has to admit Louis is right, he can feel himself relaxing more, his muscles beginning to welcome Louis’s presence inside of him rather than fight it off. Soon, the slide is slick and easy, Louis filling him up with each deliberate pump of his hips. Lestat places a hand on his abdomen and gasps when he feels the slight bulge — the undeniable evidence of Louis buried deep within him. A sob escapes his body at the realization and with this exclamation of pleasure, Louis takes to finally fucking him properly. 

“So beautiful,” Louis breathes into his ear, bracing himself with one strong hand on the headboard of the bed as he rocks himself back and forth with ease. Another wonderful perk of preternatural sex — they don’t really tire. They can hold a variety of positions for as long as they want and Louis can fuck him at an absolutely punishing pace if he desires to. 

This time around though, Lestat doesn’t wish for any of the acrobatics or challenges to mimic the Kamasutra. He likes it like this for now. He likes being face to face, sheltered by the dark curtain of Louis’s black hair, his arms and legs wrapped around him in complete submission. A century ago, he never would have been able to make himself so vulnerable, but now? He’ll open his very soul to Louis if he can. 

He’s grateful they have no neighbors sharing their walls. The bed rocks back and forth with their tempo, Lestat gasping as he hides his face in Louis’s neck and arches. He tries to reach between them, unable to resist touching himself, but Louis catches his hand in an inhuman flash of speed and pins his wrist to the pillow above his head with a grin. 

“Good boys don’t touch themselves without permission.”

If Lestat could short circuit, he would. 

“I want to make you come just like this, mon amour,” Louis murmurs, still rocking their bodies together at a steady but fast pace. “You look beautiful when you come untouched. I don’t want your hand obscuring my lovely view.”

“You’re such a bastard,” Lestat huffs out a laugh that quickly morphs into a groan, feeling Louis’s hand still pressing down on his wrist. He loves the sensation, even if they both know his own strength far surpasses Louis’s, there’s a special kind of freedom in this — allowing himself to be pinned down, to be taken. 

Without warning, Louis lets him go to sit back on his heels, pulling Lestat into his lap and continuing the onslaught of pleasure as Lestat cries out and wraps his legs around Louis’s waist.

He’s more exposed this way. On his back with his ass pulled up into Louis’s lap for him to fuck, his cock is no longer hidden between their bodies pressed together. It bobs with each thrust, each jolt of their bodies intertwined. He doesn’t often look at himself during this stage of intercourse and blushes as he wonders if the sight is pleasing to Louis. His cock is hardened to its very limit, slick with that fluid that always occurs before orgasm, slightly oozing at the tip. 

“Si beau,” Louis coos to him as if he’d read his thoughts — which of course he does not have the ability to truly do. His voice is low and sultry, breathy with the effort of their lovemaking, but still so kind, dripping with sweetness as he smooths one hand up Lestat’s thigh, then back down as if to emphasize and appreciate the mere smoothness of the skin. “So lovely like this for me, Lestat. You don’t know how wonderful it is when you let me in.”

“I’m sorry I ever shut you out,” Lestat winces slightly at how pathetic he sounds, but he can’t help it. His heart is sore and bleeding, desperate for this love from his most treasured companion, his Dark Child, his true lover. He needs Louis to know that he means this. He won’t hold him at arms length ever again. 

“Oh, mon cœur, look at you,” Louis groans, hair cascading beautifully over one shoulder as he presses in deep and rolls his hips, fang teeth poking adorably out when he bites his lower lip. “I would put a mirror on the ceiling if I wasn’t afraid of furthering your ego.”

“You say this as if I could ever stop looking at you.”

Louis smiles, cheeks flushed with color as he lets his eyes drift down again to Lestat’s cock. “You’re going to come soon.”

“I… I am not.” Lestat squirms, determined to stave off his orgasm until he’s sure Louis is right on the edge as well, but it’s proving a hard task to accomplish. Louis’s rhythm is relentless and deadly accurate, fucking right up against that sweet spot inside with ever snap of his sharp hips. 

“Your cock is telling a different story.”

“All this dirty talk, are you sure you didn’t switch bodies?” Lestat huffs, caught between frustration and ecstasy as his back helplessly bows, an uncontrollable response to the deep pleasure he’s being given. 

“I can say filthy things to you if you want me to. This is simply the first time you’ve shut up enough during sex to let me.”

“Oh hush, you exaggerate,” Lestat says, but he’s laughing, even as his body begins to tense in anticipation of climax.

“Look how close you are, mon chéri.”

“I…” Lestat bites his lip to regain control and shivers, “am not.” He can’t be so easily driven to orgasm without even being touched, can he? God, yet here he is, ready to burst. The pleasure building in him feels so intense, he thinks he may scream when it finally crests, but still, he fights it. 

“Oh no?” Louis buries himself and grinds against him, slow, deep, and deliberate. 

Lestat whimpers like a kitten, trembling with the effort to restrain himself. He would be humiliated about the way he looks and sounds right now if he weren’t so damned in love with the man doing this to him. 

“Because it looks like someone terribly needs to come.”

“Louis,” Lestat whines, begging him to relent, to slow down, to not drive him into this intense ecstasy so soon, not when he wants to feel him like this forever. 

“Don’t fight it, mon beau prince,” Louis murmurs, his voice wavering just enough to give away his own level of arousal. 

Lestat thanks the heavens that Louis isn’t as collected as he lets on. 

“Let me see you come like this, see what you look like when there are no hands to hide your pleasure. Don’t you dare cover your mouth.”

“Oh, Louis,” Lestat sobs, clawing at the bedsheets and digging his heels into the dimples of Louis’s lower back. It’s no longer in his control. His cock is bubbling at the tip, his legs tensing, thighs squeezing Louis’s sides. His ass tightens around him, dragging Louis closer to his own finish as he feels a glorious pressure swelling within him, filling his balls, curling his toes, then finally snapping deep within him as he comes. 

“LOUIS!” Lestat comes with a cry, sobbing in pleasure as his cock twitches, mimicking the physicality of the mortal orgasm but without the emission. He’s still obscenely wet, leaking that clear fluid from the tip so much that it glistens as Louis fucks him through the orgasm. He can’t control a thing. His legs spasm and one hand nearly tears the bed sheets as the other digs into Louis’s shoulder. 

He’s babbling now, his eyes becoming moist with tears as he utters a string of utter nonsense, combinations of Louis’s name and filthy swears from both French and English. 

The moment he begins to come down, his cock starting to soften, his body going slack, it seems Louis can no longer contain himself either. With vampiric speed he grabs both of Lestat’s wrists and pins them to the mattress above his head, leaning over him again and burying himself to come at the same moment they join in a deep kiss. 

Lestat welcomes it all despite the oversensitiveness of his own passing orgasm, moaning into Louis’s mouth as their tongues roll together. He feels the movement inside him, the tell tale subtle spasms of Louis’s cock as he comes without emission as all vampires do. Lestat almost misses it, wanting to be filled up by Louis as much as humanly (or vampiricly) possible, but he’s more than content with this feeling. He licks lovingly into Louis’s mouth, humming happily against him as Louis’s frantic and desperate kisses become lazier and lazier, eventually melting into such a tender exchange of lips and tongues, Lestat feels his heart ache with affection. 

“Oh, Louis,” Lestat sighs when his wrists are freed, running his hands through that beautiful mane of dark hair and watching with pleasure as Louis shuts his eyes and hums pleasantly at the sensation. He doesn’t want to pull apart just yet. “Louis, I can’t tell you how much I love you. I love you so much, I’d go through every nightmare all over again if it meant I would land back here with you.”

“You’re very sweet, mon cœur,” Louis smiles, nuzzling his nose against Lestat’s jaw and kissing the soft spot underneath. He shifts enough to remove himself from Lestat’s body, but lies over him again all the same.

Lestat’s heart beats in anticipation of Louis’s response. It’s of course something they say to each other often, but he means it with so much more depth this time. He loves Louis perhaps more than he’s ever loved anything and he can only hope that strong feeling is returned. 

“It’s quite entertaining to watch you wait,” Louis chuckles, planting one more kiss to Lestat’s lips before he meets his eyes again. “I love you too, Lestat. The apartment is wonderful, I’m glad to be sharing it with you again.”

“And you truly mean this?”

“I do.” Louis nods, leaning up and pressing a tender kiss to each of Lestat’s eyelids when he closes them to receive the gesture. “Would you like to shower? I don’t think we want our resting place to reek of blood sweat all day.”

“Oh. Yes, you can go first if you like.”

“I meant, would you like to shower with me?” Louis asks, picking a stray lock of hair out of Lestat’s face and smoothing it back. “I’ve come to really like the feeling of hot water as a vampire. We never had it as mortals like people do today with all this modern plumbing.”

“If you want my company.”

“I would welcome it,” Louis smiles, kissing him tenderly on the cheek before pulling away. “Besides, you haven’t shown me the bathroom yet.”

Lestat follows, feeling a childish giddiness within him at the sweet domesticity of it all as he leads Louis from the bedroom to the bathroom next to it. It’s fully equipped for any human visitors but the highlight of course is the elegant clawed bathtub with an enormous brass shower head. He’s also come to enjoy showering for leisure since his time as a mortal. The hot water is soothing on his vampiric skin just as it was when he was human. 

“I hope it’s to your liking.” Lestat says, pulling back a forest green curtain to reveal the tub for him. 

“You really spared no expense.” Louis marvels as a Lestat turns the water on, a well pressured stream of warm water immediately raining from the showerhead. He steps in first, leaving Lestat to watch, spellbound, as he stretches his body and soaks his hair under the water. 

Clothed and in the dim lighting Louis often prefers, he looks different. He looks soft and sweet, an alluring darkness about him, many things that are attractive in their own right. But this? Naked in the bright lights of the bathroom, head tipped back and arms raised as he runs his fingers through his hair. He looks like an Adonis, still in the strapping body of the young New Orleans lord Lestat had met him as. The water sparkles on his skin, droplets running down in rivulets from his shoulders, maneuvering their way down a leanly muscled torso and the sharp v-lines at his hips.

“What’s got you so enraptured?” Louis asks, genuinely innocent as he glances over at Lestat. “There’s nothing here you haven’t seen a dozen times over the centuries.”

“I know, but I… I don’t think I’ve ever quite seen you just like this.” He walks up to the edge of the tub and reaches past the open curtain to caress Louis’s jaw, his heart swelling when the touch makes Louis smile again. 

“Come here.” Louis gestures for Lestat to join him, pulling the curtain shut behind them when he does. He steps around, guiding Lestat into the water and reaching up to help make sure his hair is thoroughly soaked properly, glassy fingernails gently raking over his scalp until he shivers in spite of the heat, blonde hair darkening with saturation. “Sometimes when I feel too far removed from the mortal world, I like to do these little rituals as if they were normal for us.”

“What, showering?”

“A little more than that. Do you keep shampoo here?”

Lestat nods, cocking his head towards the unopened bottle on a linoleum shelf. 

Louis takes it and quickly uncaps it, pressing an unexpected kiss to the center of Lestat’s forehead before turning him around and pulling him a step back, so he’s out of the water and facing it instead. “Like this,” he says softly as his hands come up to massage the shampoo into Lestat’s hair. 

It’s not something they need to do as vampires. Their hair and skin will cleanse themselves and they typically only bathe genuinely if they’ve gotten dirty too early in the nighttime to bear it until sunrise. Lestat can’t remember the last time he washed his hair. He doesn’t know if someone else has washed it for him since he was a child. 

His heart twinges, mind flooded with old images of his mortal childhood in the Auvergne, playing in streams with his brothers, his mother affectionately washing his long hair in a basin of warm water after dinner. Louis’s hands feel just like hers, his touch soothing, full of a comfort Lestat hasn’t known in ages. He’s thankful for the steam around them, embarrassed that his eyes are watering at such a simple gesture, but then Louis’s lips are on his neck as well, so tender and loving in his kisses that Lestat wants to weep. 

He almost lost this. He almost died without ever knowing what it felt like to be cared for in this manner, he almost lost this kind and loving man touching his hair right now, a man far too sweet for Lestat to deserve.

“Are you all right?” Louis asks, voice full of concern, but free of judgement. 

“Yes,” Lestat swallows the lump in his throat hard, trembling slightly when he feels soapy hands running over his back, washing his skin with the same gentle affection. God, he’s going to start crying over something as simple as a shower. “I’m fine, it just… feels nice.”

“I’m glad.” Louis murmurs with his lips ghosting over the shell of Lestat’s ear. “Turn around for me, mon chéri. Let me rinse it for you.”

Lestat turns around, chewing his lip with the anxiety of revealing his eyes to Louis. He hopes his emotion isn’t evident. Even knowing Louis can’t read thoughts, he veils his mind, but as always, it’s no use with him. Louis’s expression softens immediately, seeing the welled up tears, the light pink tinting the whites of his eyes. 

“What’s this about, mon doux amour?” He frowns, his voice gentle as if he’s speaking to a child. 

In the past, Lestat would have been infuriated. Who is Louis to talk down to him? He isn’t a child. Louis’s denied his weeping before, why the concern now? But these thoughts bear no weight anymore. They’re fleeting and unimportant as Lestat looks into his dark eyes and feels his mouth give the slightest quiver. 

When Lestat speaks, his voice is wavering. “Are you sure you forgive me?” He croaks, chest aching at the care in Louis’s expression. By God, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve this kind hearted beautiful soul washing his hair and his back, making love to him, sharing a bed as if they’re a mortal married couple. How many times has he hurt Louis in their past together? How many times has he frightened him? Insulted him? 

“Forgive you for what? You know I don’t hold what happened with your body against you. I understand why you did it and what you learned.”

“For all of it,” Lestat gulps, having to avert his eyes from the understanding in Louis’s. “I’ve been so cruel to you God only knows how many times. I’ve been selfish and impulsive and vicious, I… After all of it, how can you…?”

“Lestat, you look on our past with the darkest of glasses.” Louis shakes his head, reaching out to tilt Lestat’s chin up so their eyes are forced to meet. “It’s partly my fault. When I allowed that first book to be written, I was holding too much resentment. Just as you said in your own words, we’ve grossly ignored all of the joy we had together in those early decades of immortal life.”

“But the pain I caused us with Claudia…”

“I was the one who brought her close to death in the first place.” Louis reminds him, stepping forward and pressing his lips against Lestat’s cheek. “We both know how much we miss her, how much it hurts knowing what happened to her… but we were still a family, Lestat. You were still my lover. How many times did we spend the night acting out Shakespeare for her in the living room? How many times did you take me to the theater, the opera, the ballet, showing me a world of art I had never known before you?”

Lestat blushes, remembering all of the plays and music they would create themselves right here in the apartment — and for no other reason than making each other and their daughter smile. 

“All the times Claudia went to hunt on our own and we made love in every room of this place,” Louis smiles, pushing Lestat’s wet hair back behind his ears and kissing his forehead once again. “You reading to me, comforting me in my endless existential dread, keeping me fed when I didn’t have the will to hunt for myself. I know from your own written words why you acted so callous sometimes. I know how you loved me all that time.”

“I should have told you as much.”

“I knew better than you thought I did.” Louis drops his hands to Lestat’s waist, squeezing affectionately. “I have always loved you, Lestat. Yes there have been times I cursed myself for doing so, cursed you for seducing me into your Savage Garden to begin with, but I have always loved you.”

“Well now you’re making me weep even more,” Lestat lets out a wet laugh and closes the space between them, accepting Louis’s warm embrace and hugging him tight. He’s crying a little, but the steam hides his tears well enough as he tucks his face into his lover’s neck and kisses the skin nearest his lips over and over again. “So you’ll truly stay with me here? One home together, sharing a bed?”

“If that’s what you want, then of course.”

“But is it what you want?” Lestat asks, afraid to look up at him again as he keeps his face hidden against Louis’s shoulder. “I’m… different than I once was. There will be times when I wake in the daytime panicked and you’ll be disturbed. There might be times when I fear I’m being haunted again, when I make rash decisions you advise me not to make.”

“Maybe learn to take my advice a little, mon cher,” Louis teases. “But yes, I’m afraid I’ll be here regardless. It’s where I want to be.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do.” 

They shower together until the water begins to cool, Lestat giving into and reveling in all of Louis’s pampering rituals — of which there are more than anticipated. His heart feels full with Louis’s reassurance and he kisses him over and over beneath the water, licking the sweet water droplets from his lips and caressing every inch of skin he can get his hands on. His passion nearly stirs again, being so intimate like this, but the sun will be rising soon outside and he’s eager to crawl into bed in their new lair together. 

He’s been fearing his daytime slumber ever since the nightmares began and now, he feels genuinely excited for some rest, knowing he won’t be waking up alone. 

Out of the shower, he slides into the silk robe that feels wonderful on his skin, and brings Mojo in from the garden. He usually will have him go to the tenant downstairs for the daytime, but this time, he just wants him close by. He smothers him with pets and kisses as an apology for the eight hours he’ll be away and sets the automatic treat dispenser in the kitchen to reward him a few times before the next evening.

Just as the blue of the sky begins to lighten outside, Lestat meticulously closes all the curtains of the apartment, locking every window and bolting every door, but leaving the lights on inside for Mojo.

In the bedroom, Louis is waiting for him on the bed, his hair damp, dressed in a soft sweater and cotton pajama pants. It’s adorably domestic. Lestat even sees he’s put a book for himself on the nightstand. 

“You cut it far closer to sunrise than me,” Louis yawns, pulling the covers back to slide under them and patting the empty space next to him. 

“I’ll be right there,” Lestat smiles, almost giddy as he finishes securing the room, putting the panels in front of the windows, shutting all curtains, and checking all locks until at last they’re in complete, comfortable darkness, safely tucked away together to avoid the coming sunlight.

He slides into bed next to Louis and shuts the canopy around the bed, his face warming when Louis holds his arms out for him. 

“Thank you,” Lestat says quietly, moving into Louis’s embrace to rest his head on the firm muscles of his chest. He can feel his limbs becoming heavy with the sun close to rising outside, his heart beat slow and steady as he closes his eyes. It feels wonderful to fall asleep in a pair of strong arms. Lying like this, he can hear Louis’s heart beat as well.

“I’ll see you at dusk, mon cœur,” Louis murmurs with a kiss to the top of Lestat’s head. “Are you sure you can safely wake me if you have a nightmare?”

Lestat gives a shy nod.

“Then be sure to rouse me if you do — daylight or not.”

“I will,” Lestat says as the deep sleep begins to overtake him, letting the low thrum of Louis’s heart beat lull him into slumber.

It takes vampires no time to sleep deeply once the sun has come up. Lestat recalls many a time he’d tried to stay awake after sunrise, tucked away in a dark lair to shield him from the sun, only to slip into unconsciousness all the same. 

It’s never been unusual for him to dream in his sleep. He’d stayed in a dreamlike trance for all those years underground when he retreated from the surface. Then of course there were the terrible visions of Claudia’s ghost, the horrifying nightmare of Mekare and Maharet with their funeral feast, rape, and kidnappings. 

Now, it’s never the same thing. Sometimes there are no dreams. Other times are like tonight. 

This time it’s the wolves. He’s a young boy again in the Auvergne, wrapped in furs, his horse and beloved dogs lying dead in blood soaked snow that reeks of iron. His arms are heavy with his weapons, chest aching with his ragged breath, cornered by the two beasts. He’s dreamt of this moment dozens of times before. The terror in his heart, the dread that he was about to die before he ever got to learn any of the answers he sought, before he even got a taste of the life he desired for himself. 

Only this time, he doesn’t feel that last burst of strength within him. He can’t lift his arms, his feet are stuck in the ground. He stares down the wolves, feels sweat slicking his grip on the mace, sees one of the beasts lick its lips. 

Just as he feels the weapons slip from his hands, preparing to slump to his knees in defeat, he sees Louis. He’s standing in the snow covered forest just beyond the woods. His kind eyes are large with hurt and worry, dressed in his favorite dark sweater, snowflakes sticking to his black hair. 

Lestat opens his mouth to cry out for him but wakes with a gasp instead, covered in a cold sheet of blood sweat when he sits up in their shrouded bed. He’s safe. The room is pitch black, but he can thankfully see all around him as he reminds himself of where he is, that he’s awake. 

Beside him, Louis is still peacefully asleep in the most human fashion. While most look like statues during their day time slumber, Louis lays on his side, hair adorably disheveled and one hand still resting on Lestat’s hip under the covers. 

Lestat takes a deep breath of relief at the sight of him and reaches over with a shaky hand. Louis may unconsciously fight him for a moment, but his strength is great enough that he’ll be able to wake him before any damage is done. 

“Louis?” He asks in a soft voice, bracing himself to possibly restrain Louis momentarily if need be when he gives his shoulder a gentle shake. 

Instead of remaining unconscious and fighting him off on vampiric instinct, Louis seems to only stir in his sleep, rolling closer to Lestat and blinking his eyes slowly open. 

“Are you… awake?” Lestat swallows, hoping that he isn’t causing Louis too much discomfort by interrupting his sleep.

“I… Yes, just barely. The sun must still be high, my limbs feel like lead.” Louis rubs his eyes a moment and looks around, reminding himself what their new lair looks like before settling down again and looking up to meet Lestat’s eyes. “Oh mon chér, were you dreaming?”

“Yes.” Lestat trembles. “I… the wolves this time. I was in the Auvergne and you were… You were there and I couldn’t protect myself, couldn’t protect you, I…”

“Mon pauvre homme doux,” Louis murmurs, reaching up and running a hand through his hair. Lestat nuzzles his head into the touch. “Everything’s all right. No wolves are out to get us except perhaps Mojo and his determination to tackle me.” He holds his arms open and gestures for Lestat to come into them.

The gesture is so simple, but so sweet, Lestat almost weeps as he lays himself in Louis’s arms, head on his chest, and feels the protective embrace of his arms around him. He can feel his eyelids grow heavy again already, his body weighing him down with the need to return to sleep.

“You’re all right,” Louis repeats in a whisper, rubbing Lestat’s back lazily beneath the blankets and pressing another kiss to his forehead to soothe him. “Can you come back to sleep with me?”

“Yes… Thank you, Louis.”

“There’s no need to thank me, my love,” Louis says with a smile and a protective squeeze of his arms, settling into Lestat’s touch completely as they begin to slip away again into unconsciousness. 

Lestat shuts his eyes, in part to hold back gracious tears. “And you’ll be here when I wake again?”

“Always, mon cœur,” Louis murmurs. A promise. “For now and the rest of time.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to find me on social media, I'm at https://leslutdelionwhore.tumblr.com/ ! I also have another Fandom Twitter account with other fandoms if anime and captive prince type book fanfic is up your alley, you can message me on Tumblr to find that @ as well.
> 
> French Translations (Attempted) :
> 
> “Retour à Vous” — “Return To You”
> 
> “Mon Dieu” — “My God”
> 
> “Mon chéri” — “Honey/Darling” [masculine]
> 
> “Mon cœur” — “My heart”
> 
> “Mon amour, tu as un goût si doux” — “My love, you taste so sweet”
> 
> “Mon prince charmant” — “My prince charming”
> 
> “Mon vilain garçon” — “My naughty boy” 
> 
> “Dis moi que tu as raté ma bite” — “Tell me you missed my cock”
> 
> "S'il te plaît, baise-moi. Je te veux. S'il vous plaît.” — “Please fuck me. I want you. Please.”
> 
> “Mon bel homme” — “My handsome man”
> 
> “Mon amour” — “My love”
> 
> “Si beau” — “So beautiful”
> 
> “Mon doux amour” — “My sweet love”
> 
> “Mon pauvre homme doux” — “My poor sweet man”


End file.
